Before the Storm
by kiebs
Summary: A collection of stories to explain the Storm Universe; may need to read Storm first to understand. How Townsville deals with an alien invasion when one of their beloved Powerpuffs disappears, how the Resistance and the Rebellion are formed, and how enemies become unlikely friends and allies.
1. Chapter 1

Hello! It has been forever and a day since I posted on Fanfic, but I decided to share this one because I wanted to let everyone know that I am currently updating Storm! So this is a prequel series of shorts that help explain some of the world of Storm. Also cross-posted on my AO3 (where my user is kiebs).

Read to discover how Townsville deals with the aliens, how the Resistance and Rebellion are made, and how enemies turn to unlikely friends and allies!

* * *

**Before the Storm 01**

* * *

They had spent the last two years pretending to be normal, laying low in Citiesville because that was the last place the Powerpuffs would ever look for them, and it all came crashing down one day in summer.

Brick had just returned from a nauseating walk through the city, an attempt to clear his mind and the irritating buzzing in his stomach. For some reason, he had woken up that day with a killer headache and dreadful twisting in his gut. He felt like his skin was too tight and he was damn sure he wasn't going through puberty again. That had been a painful week of his and his brothers' lives that was better off not reliving.

Whatever he was feeling, he decided to take a walk to escape Butch and Boomer's squabbling and maybe the activity would calm him. There was a better activity, of course, that he knew for sure would help, but that was forbidden due to the mere fact that Citiesville had outlawed superpowers. It sucked because he could _really_ go for a good brawl.

The kind of brawl that included a dangerous game of Cat and Mouse through the skyline and involved ice and fire erupting into steam. The kind of brawl that he had given up since he moved his brothers from Townsville so they could…well, so they could maybe be normal kids. There was only so much fighting and losing, or drawing with, the Girls that he could take. As fun as it had been, eventually it got boring and tedious. Besides, he mostly did that because Mojo _insisted_. As much as he hated the goody-goodies, there was only so much monkey nagging he could take.

Him didn't give a shit about them anymore. Apparently they had failed one too many times for the lobster to give them more than a glance nowadays. He certainly didn't seem to care that they weren't in Townsville anymore. Not that He or Mojo had been all that good parental units, anyway.

Brick had been the one to teach his brothers, forcing stolen textbooks and workbooks into their hands. It was all he could do to get them to read and write, but at least they weren't _illiterate_. The few times they had been forced to go to school had led to disaster, anyways. Butch couldn't sit still and, _of course_, they were with the Powerpuffs so Butch had an easy target in Buttercup. So they would rile each other up and then a fight would break out and then they were expelled. _Again_.

Remembering that just made his headache worse.

Safe to say, the walk had _not _helped.

Brick rubbed his forehead, standing in the doorway of their rundown and stolen apartment, when the screams reached him. He looked over his shoulder, down the roach infested hallway, before shrugging and walking into the apartment. Screams weren't that unusual in Citiesville, after all.

The sight that greeted him was unusual.

Boomer and Butch were plastered to the window. Usually, they were spread about the living room, watching their stolen television or playing some video games. Whatever that was going on outside was way more interesting, apparently.

Brick frowned and took a step forward.

"Brick. C'mere," Boomer whispered.

The fear in his voice sent a chill down Brick's spine.

Their apartment wasn't that high, on the third floor of a tall apartment building. Most of the building was abandoned, something about the landlord falling into debt, which meant it was mostly empty. Something was passing their window, something that cast a dark shadow over everything, something that looked nothing like a blimp or giant balloon. There weren't any parades today, either. Citiesville didn't _do_ parades.

His gut rolled. More screams filtered through the grungy glass.

Brick sped back out into the hallway before he could think, his brothers on his tail. They zoomed through the stairwell and exploded onto the roof. His eyes darted around and he felt the blood drain from his face.

Inky lily pads floated through the city, bright lights pulsing across them. They littered the city and, horrifically, _things_ were melting from them and falling upon the people staring in awe up at them. That explained the screams, screams of fear and of pain. They moved wicked fast, almost as fast as they could move.

Boomer shoved his fist into his mouth as the _things_ jumped onto the sides of buildings and began scaling them. People ran from their windows, but the things punched right through as if they were nothing. Some had glowing blades that looked like Boomer's bat, too.

Butch cursed and he was trembling, trembling so much that Brick grabbed his arm. Them just floating there was a violation of the law, but that wasn't why he stopped his brother. Something about those things rang alarms in his mind. Something was horribly wrong.

"Brick. What do we _do_?" Boomer asked.

Brick didn't look at him, too busy watching the creatures. He swallowed. His grip tightened on Butch.

They could help. They had powers, they could _do_ something. They weren't heroes, though. Surely, the Powerpuff Girls would be here to save these people even if it wasn't their city. After all, only a bridge separated the two.

His mouth twisted.

Yeah, only a bridge. Who said that these things weren't already in Townsville?

Taking a breath, he let Butch go. His decision was made.

"Let's—"

One of those things sprung up in front of them, glowing blades clutched in its hands. All three boys froze before scattering as those blades swung down.

"What the hell! What the _hell_!" Butch screeched.

It lunged at him and he spun, dodging its swipe. Boomer met it with his bat, struggling with it before Butch and Brick blasted it with beams from their fists. An inhuman shriek sent another chill down Brick's spine.

The thing lunged again and Butch threw a shield up between it and them.

"What is it! What _is it_!?" Boomer cried and clutched onto Brick's arm.

Brick shook him off. "I don't know. Maybe Him finally decided to try invading with a demon army?"

"Why's it attacking us then!?" his youngest brother demanded.

A loud crack echoed around them.

Butch was sweating. A snarl contorted his face as he pressed his hands against the energy of his shield. A large crack ran between his palms.

"_Guys_!" he snapped.

Brick tensed.

The thing pulled back, sword lifted to swing again.

Heat bubbled in his throat.

"Butch, drop the shield!" he commanded and the wall disappeared.

Taking a deep breath, he lunged forward and shoved his brother down. Flames erupted from his mouth, slamming into the thing, which shrieked so shrilly his ears rung. The scent of burning flesh filled the air and it wobbled backwards, clutching its face.

Not letting it recovered, his eyebeams slammed into it and sent it over the side of the building. It writhed as it fell.

Brick grabbed his brothers' collars and shot into the air. He barely let them regain themselves before he was shooting across the city, towards the one place he had vowed not to return to. He scowled, hating the bitter taste of retreat on his tongue, but he knew when he was outclassed. These things, whatever they were, were just as powerful as they were.

As they flew, he could see some flying, some ripping doors and cars apart, some waving around those energy weapons. The lily pads floated lazily around the city, dropping more and more of those things. He had a sinking suspicion that they _were_ witnessing an invasion, just not one of the demonic kind. If that was the case, they needed to regroup and they needed more firepower.

And that meant a truce.

"Where are we going?" Boomer finally asked, even as they neared the river.

Brick clenched his fists.

"Townsville."

* * *

If he had expected Townsville to be any better, he was proved wrong immediately.

Those lily pads floated down the streets here too. Screams and smoke filled the air. The creatures had scaled the buildings, wrecking them and outright causing mayhem, just like in Citiesville. Somehow, he knew that other cities were getting the same exact treatment. This was an invading army, meant to terrify and subdue.

Streaks of blue and green crisscrossed the city in the distance. The echoes of a sonic scream rippled around them. The wind roared occasionally as a green tornado traveled down roads. Brick led his brothers directly towards them.

The lack of pink made that dreadful feeling bubble and froth in his stomach.

"Boys," he called over the wind, "help."

He didn't need to see his brothers to know that they nodded.

The Rowdyruff Boys dived into the fight.

* * *

What felt like hours later, it had to be hours later, Brick, his brothers, and both Bubbles and Buttercup had fallen back. They had saved as many people as they could, but there were just too many of the creatures. He was refusing to call them aliens, even though that made the most sense. They weren't demons, no matter what Buttercup called them.

Currently, they were in the Utonium's living room. The Professor had startled at the sight of he and his brothers, but had ushered them in all the same.

A blue-eyed girl had jumped up from the couch and had hugged the sisters as soon as they walked in. She didn't seem deterred at all by their ragged state, but Brick didn't miss the way her eyes darted around. He knew exactly who she was looking for. His head pounded.

Currently, the three girls sat staring at a computer, watching as news scrolled across the screen. He was surprised that there even was any news, but then again, the reporters in Townsville knew no fear. Their lack of fear he had experienced plenty of times.

Brick sat on the edge of their fireplace and watched the door. His fists pressed against his lips as he wait, his stomach tightening and tightening the longer it didn't open.

His brothers had retired to their counterparts' sides, despite the hesitance on both sides. They were too tired to care about an old rivalry, anyway. He wasn't exactly the best person to be around and, besides, the girls had their only source of communication to the outside world. So they too watched the news, their faces paling at whatever they saw.

Brick couldn't spare them more than a glance before he continued his vigil.

The red door refused to open.

The sky outside of the window grew darker, redder, as the sun filtered through the smoke of the city. His leg began to bounce.

The door didn't open.

His stomach rolled.

His head pounded as he _willed_ the door to open.

He clenched his fists tighter.

The sky grew darker. Red turned to purple to midnight blue.

Venus rose in the horizon.

His jaw hurt from him clenching his teeth.

"Where…is she?"

It hurt to move, but he did to see Bubbles staring at the door. Her eyes were haunted and she trembled.

Buttercup looked up as well. The blue-eyed girl, whose name he had missed, hugged Bubbles tightly.

"She'll be back, Bubbles," the girl murmured. "Let's…Let's sit down."

His brothers met his eyes. They looked as lost as he felt. He scowled.

Brick returned to his vigil.

At some point, the Professor made them eat. Brick didn't taste anything, too busy trying to watch the door or the windows from the kitchen. He didn't understand. Where _was_ she? This wasn't like her. She didn't…She didn't leave her sisters like this unless she had a plan. They, like he and his brothers, were stronger together.

It wasn't like her.

Wasn't she punctual?

As soon as he was done eating, he returned to his vigil.

An hour later, a wail began.

"Wha-a-a-at are we g-g-gonna d-do?" Bubbles cried as Buttercup tried to soothe her.

The blue-eyed girl, Robin she had reintroduced herself as, rubbed her shoulders. She looked close to tears herself.

Boomer and Butch drifted closer to him. Both looked out of their depth, not that Brick was any better with crying. He didn't…do the whole soothing thing.

"Shh, shh, Bubbles. I'm sure she's okay," Buttercup murmured, but her voice was shaking. "I'm sure…she's probably just…hiding out somewhere, y'know? Strategizing!"

Bubbles' mouth trembled, but she began bawling her eyes out.

Brick rubbed his temples.

"But—! But Buttercup—! What if—! What if—!" she sobbed. "I-I-I w-want B-Blossommmm!"

He gritted his teeth.

"Pinky's too damn smart," he snapped, glaring at the door. Any moment now she would come waltzing through that door and demand to know why he was in her house. "Stop crying."

Sniffles answered him.

Any moment now…

Hiccups followed and what sounded like someone wrapping Bubbles in a hug. Buttercup made shushing noises.

Any moment…

Brick clenched his teeth. He pressed his fists to his mouth.

Any…

His stomach felt sour, like he was going to throw up the dinner he had wolfed down.

Moment…

The dreadful feeling he woke up with doubled.

Now…

.

.

_Pinky, where are you?_


	2. Chapter 2

Here's the second short! The first couple or so are chronological, but the rest will probably not follow a direct timeline. They just all happen before Storm.

A thank you to **ROCuevas** and **MoonlitCritter64 **for reviewing, and a thank you as well as **carriedreamer **for letting me gush and complain!

Check out my Instagram, kiebsmon, for a picture of the aliens!

* * *

**Before the Storm 02**

* * *

Of course, the world went to chaos on the rare day that Mojo Jojo decided to take a day off.

His morning had gone as usual: wake up at 7 o'clock on the dot, shuffle into his vast kitchen for a cup coffee (two spoonful's of sugar and a dash of fat free milk), and read the morning paper that one of his many inventions had delivered to him from the foot of his volcano. About half an hour later, when his stomach finally growled, he had indulged himself with a banana nut muffin and two eggs over medium before preparing for the rest of the day.

Seeing just how gorgeous of a day it was, he had decided, in a rare moment of generosity, that, _no_, he wasn't going to try to take over the world today. He had plenty of things to tinker with anyway, plans that needed finishing, and maybe he would spend an hour or so outside with a book. It was just that nice of a day. Besides, the Girls had become almost too efficient in handling his robots and machines, so he needed the _perfect_ plan to try to destroy them and that took time and planning.

In moments like that, when he planned and brainstormed and plotted, he missed the Rowdyruff Boys. Certainly, his sons were rambunctious and maybe a little bit too distracting with their predilection for destruction, but they had been the perfect distractions for the Girls whenever he had a robbery planned. They weren't…nearly as helpful as he had thought they would be when he tried to take over the town or tried to destroy the Powerpuff Girls. Their love of destruction took over too much and sometimes they accidentally hit _him_ rather than the Girls.

Mojo frowned as he walked into his study. Placing his mug on his vast desk, he wondered if all those times _had_ been accidental. The older the Boys had gotten, the less they seemed to care about villainy besides just plain, old mischief. They weren't even as keen on fighting the Girls, despite the way they twitched and glared whenever they had the misfortune of sharing any sort of space. Oh, he had had plenty of calls from Townsville Elementary because of their rivalry.

He huffed.

Learning from the past was one thing, but he, Mojo Jojo, shouldn't focus so much on the shortcomings of…well, admittedly, the Rowdyruff Boys were probably one of his better inventions. Failure to destroy the Powerpuff Girls on more than one occasion or no, they _had_ been rather adept at beating the snot out of the Girls. He just had no idea _how_ they were always outsmarted in the end.

Cockiness could only go so far as an answer until a pattern showed up. Had the Boys _not_ wanted to defeat the Girls? If the Girls were no longer in their way, with Mojo as king of the world, the Boys could go on however many destruction sprees as they wanted. Well, Mojo would have to reign them in, of course, as there was no use ruling a world in _ruin_, but they would have…almost free reign to cause as much mayhem as they wanted with no Powerpuff Girls to stop them.

"Bah! They're no longer here so why should I, Mojo Jojo, waste such brainpower wondering on such ridiculous ponderings?" he grumbled and took a sip of his coffee. He sighed happily. "Ahh, Colombian dark roast, my favorite!"

He spent the rest of the morning working on another ship in a bottle because he could eventually get to his planning later. This was a new one, anyway; a recreation of Magellan's _Victoria_; and he was very excited to add it to his collection. It was just as he was adding the finishing touches that a faint beeping started up from the computer in the corner of the room.

Growling, Mojo threw down his tweezers and stomped over to the infernal thing. It was one of the many that littered his abode, connected to all his surveillance software and hardware. It also served as his intercom to tell solicitors to scram.

The screen flashed red with an odd image. Mojo frowned, shutting off the alarm, and leaned a little closer. A black shape floated just outside of his observatory.

"What the—?"

A crash sounded from his living room.

The alarms began blaring anew.

"What! What, what, what!" Mojo shouted and dashed out of his office. A strange figure stood in the middle of the room, surveying it calmly as if it hadn't just ripped a hole in his wall. _Just like those darn Powerpuff Girls_. "Who are you! How dare you break into the home of _Mooojo Jojo_! Have you no respect, common decency, not to break into another's home for that is _rude_ and furthermore against all—"

The creature was in his face before he could blink, hand clasped around his throat. It lifted him and tilted its head to the side.

"I do not listen to the drivel of a lesser being," it hissed in a deep voice. It dropped him. "I am Aterex. This world is now mine."

The creature, _Aterex_, stood tall and loomed over Mojo as he coughed. It was certainly taller than a man, shaped similarly, but with somewhat hunched shoulders and if a man was also a living inkblot. Its eyes were large for its head, buggy and looked similar to a grey alien's eyes. Those eyes were also the only feature on its face.

Catching his breath, Mojo scowled up at it.

"Ex_cuse_ me!?" he snapped. "This world will have one ruler and that is not you! For it is _me_, Mooojo Jojo! I will be ruler and not you because it will be me who—"

The creature lunged for him again.

All those years fighting the Powerpuff Girls, plus his own natural DNA as a chimp, allowed him to roll away just before Aterex touched him. He jumped to his feet just next to his rather comfortable couch. The creature snarled and teeth ripped across the featureless face.

Mojo grimaced in response. That was definitely something too benefitting of Him for his liking. Reaching into his couch, he pulled out the laser gun he kept there in case of emergencies. This definitely counted as one.

"Haha!" He pointed the gun and fired.

Aterex's body bent in an unnatural way to avoid the blast. Mojo again grimaced at the sight, but kept firing as the creature continue to dodge. It was almost mesmerizing how it could contort itself, shifting its shape to befit what it need in seconds. If it weren't trying to attack him, he would be much more willing to study it more.

Belatedly, he realized it was moving closer to him when a long leg slammed into his stomach. Grunting, he found himself across the room and dazed, gun missing. The world spun when he lifted his head and watched the creature inspect his gun before snapping it in two.

He groaned and fell back. All that work destroyed like a child's toy. At least he was used to that happening at this point. Between both the Girls and the Boys, he had lost too many inventions. What was one more for the pile? At least he still had the blueprints.

Soft footsteps sounded as the creature made its way over to him. It towered above him, a wrinkle of disdain on its blank face. He leered back at it.

"You put up more of a fight than the girl child," Aterex said with a twist of its head. "Though I did not give her time to fight."

A chill went down his spine.

Mojo frowned.

"Girl child...? You mean one of the Powerpuff Girls? You've defeated one of the _Powerpuff Girls_?" he demanded.

The creature continued to examine him. A four-fingered hand touched tapped its chin, as if it was thinking over his words. After a moment, its hand dropped. Its body shifted, a foot moving back and its torso twisting.

"I do not know what you speak of, but it matters not. You are little more than a pebble in my path."

It cocked its arm back.

Mojo sucked in a breath and slapped the wall behind him. The specially made emergency panel depressed and new sirens began blaring. Red lights flashed, distracting Aterex enough for him pull another gun from another hidden panel and blast it backwards.

It screeched in surprise, skidding a few feet. Smoke billowed from the burn on its chest and it shuddered, hands smoothing over the injured area. Lifting its head, those bulbous eyes looked murderous. Razor sharp teeth split from its hidden mouth, a maw of darkness greeting the world as it roared its displeasure.

Mojo shuddered. Oh, yes, definitely something befitting of Him.

He didn't waste time continuing to blast the creature, even as it lunged again. Its speed was so fast, almost on par to the Powerpuff Girls, and he hadn't spent years fighting those pesky girls not to learn a few things. He dodged away, running and blasting, before turning to make his escape. Something slammed into his back all the same and he found himself slamming into yet another wall, thankfully next to a door.

He groaned and rubbed his face. A shadow loomed over him.

"_Vermin_," Aterex hissed and raised its arm yet again.

Mojo grimaced before yelling and blasting the damn thing point blank.

Light blinded him.

A roar of pain echoed around him, but he was scrabbling for the door to his left. Through squinting eyes, he managed to pry it open and slammed it closed behind him. It hurt to breathe, but, considering he had just been tossed around like a doll, that wasn't too surprising. His muscles complained as he barricaded the door as best he could before hurrying to the secret escape hatch he had installed in his bathroom. As much as he hated to leave his observatory, his _home_, Aterex was strong.

The Powerpuff Girls at least let up after giving him a good beating.

This…creature…wanted to kill him.

_Vermin_, it had hissed and Mojo scowled.

He would show it who the vermin _was_.

* * *

The next day, after sneaking through the shadows at night and laying low in the _trash_ (he hadn't had to do that in _years_), Mojo made his way through the quiet neighborhood. It didn't look like those things (and it was _things_ because he had seen and heard so many last night. This was an _invasion_) had gotten this far. Nevertheless, he crept among the shadows of the early morning, using shrubbery to hide himself and keeping an eye on the skies.

Eventually, finally, he made it to the iconic house. It was hard to forget, since it had such a modern, almost brusque style compared to the rest of the homes around it. A white that needed a new coat of paint and a bright, bright red door. Three circular windows surveyed the lawn before it, reflecting the morning sunlight.

Mojo squared his shoulders and crossed to the front door.

And knocked.


	3. Chapter 3

Here's the third short! What caused the rift between Bubbles and Buttercup in Storm

Check out my instagram, kiebsmon, for 1. A picture of the aliens and 2. a set of profiles for everyone's Storm interpretations!

Please enjoy! And stay safe!

* * *

**Before the Storm 03**

* * *

Two years. It had been two years since the damn aliens had descended on their world.

Two years since the Rowdyruff Boys returned to Townsville and actually helped them.

Two years since Mojo showed up on their doorstep and asked for a truce in light of the invasion.

A year and a half since the Resistance started, a year and a half since they had gathered enough people who wanted to fight, who had the military know how to do so.

A year and half since Mojo and the Professor had begun working on the tunnels and the base, building on the old nuclear fallout shelters they had found.

A year since the military training began for all people who wanted to join and fight.

A year since Buttercup began avoiding the training like the plague.

A year since Bubbles had joined the training.

A year since Bubbles had joined training with the _Rowdyruff Boys._

It still left a sour taste in her mouth. Yeah, sure, she was…sorta okay with them now. They had proven themselves, she _guessed_, but working with them? Okay, fine, she got along better with Butch than she realized when he wasn't annoying as all _hell_ and she _supposed_ Boomer was _okay_, if not _dumb_, but that's as far as she got.

Brick could go choke on his fire.

Because _of course,_ Brick was the leader. Of _course_, the superhumans needed a _superhuman_ leader, but _nooo_, no one else could be the leader! Butch was too crazy and liked to fight too much and Boomer was too indecisive and, well, sure, Bubbles could lead if she tried, but she had always been better as a follower.

Buttercup often skipped training, despite her wanting to fight those damn aliens, so she was vetoed immediately. It pissed her off. She could lead! She…well, sure, maybe she had messed up a few times, been a little too aggressive when she should have observed instead, but she had been able to handle leading! She could lead! But _noooo_, Buttercup was overlooked because she flaked off on training just because _someone_ was so naturally _bossy_.

As soon as those dumb boys had shown up, Brick had started throwing his weight around. Telling them what to do, how to fight, spending so much time kissing their teachers' asses just so he could get some special treatment. Oh, but all the officers _loved_ him because _oh_ Brick what a good little soldier! What a good little ass-kisser you are because that's _all_ you knew, huh!

Spent so much time under Him and Mojo, no wonder the jerk knew how to wheedle his way into people's good graces. It made her laugh. Yeah, good graces that only came about because of her dad and that librarian lady, Mrs. Cavadini. (She wasn't…actually a librarian, but she had apparently volunteered at Pokey Oaks Library before the invasion and now basically resided there afterwards.) They still had people eyeing the Rowdyruffs and Mojo suspiciously, but oh! Brick what a good little boy you're being! Maybe someday we'll trust you enough to be an _officer_!

Yeah, sure. When pigs fly.

Except he _was_ good at the training. He _was_ good at listening, despite how annoying and arrogant and stubborn he was. He took what the officers were teaching them and turned around and worked it into his own little maneuvers with his brothers and Bubbles. The look on his face was changing, changing from the usual arrogant smirk or angry glare to something calm and collected. Something analytical, something that could be trusted, something that always had a plan.

Something that looked _too_ much like the look another redhead used to have.

So, no, Buttercup did not go to training as much as she should. Not when everything in her was _rejecting_ what she was seeing.

Bubbles, however, apparently couldn't see what was so _wrong_.

"Buttercup!" her sister called, having tracked her down after another lesson. "There you are! You skipped _again_!"

"I don't need to train," she answered and shuffled the cards she had been playing with. She had found an affinity to solitaire from skipping so many lessons. "'sides, I'm the damn Toughest Fighter. I don't _need_ training."

Bubbles blew out in annoyance. "Yes, well, it wouldn't _hurt_, either."

Buttercup stiffened for only a moment. Her sister almost sounded like…the _other one._

"Whatever," she mumbled.

She returned to her game.

Bubbles shifted next to her. She sighed softly.

"Look, Buttercup," she began and gently touched her shoulder. "I know…it's hard. Hard working with…villains. Hard working with the Boys, but…give them a chance. Learn to battle next to them, not with them."

"I'm _fine_ with the Boys," Buttercup snapped, putting down the three of spades. She blew out a loud breath when her sister squeezed her shoulder. "I just… Look, it's whatever. I can still fight."

"But we're learning to be a _unit_!" Bubbles argued.

Her hand left her shoulder. Buttercup could just see her putting her hands on her hips in her peripheral. It looked too familiar.

She swallowed the bitter taste on her tongue. She glared down at her cards.

"Yeah? We've been fighting together since we were _five_, Bubs."

"Not with the Boys."

Buttercup scowled. She placed the four of clubs.

Voices began to filter around them. Apparently, others had found their way to what had been Midway Elementary's cafeteria. It still admittedly _was_ a cafeteria, but this certainly wasn't an elementary school anymore. Not with all the military training going on.

Bubbles huffed. "Come on, Buttercup. Would it be so bad? Brick's not a bad lea—"

"I am _not_ going to listen to someone who isn't Blossom!" Buttercup snapped, finally looking up at her little sister. Her face contorted with her rage. "And _definitely_ not her arrogant prick of a counterpart!"

Shock registered on Bubbles' face, which was ridiculous! Like Buttercup was even going to listen an ex-villain, to someone who had beat up their sister so many times that the mere sight of her sister made his growl like a _dog_. Like she was going to listen to someone who _wasn't _Blossom.

She was surprised that Bubbles was even listening to him. She should _know_. Know just how much of a _jerk_ and a _prick_ and an _asshole _he was! She should remember the bruises, burns, and _broken bones_ that Blossom had suffered! The countless fights were Blossom was limping after or nursing some kind of wound, while waving off their concern. So what if they had helped them fight the aliens on that dark day!

She wasn't going to fucking listen to _Brick_ of all fucking people.

Not when he couldn't even say Blossom's damn name!

"Buttercup," Bubbles began, but Buttercup was too worked up, was too angry.

She just wanted her sister, God dammit! And everyone wanted her obey her counterpart? Uh-uh, no way, no _thank you_.

"No, y'know what? I'm done," she snapped and threw down the cards. She stood and shouldered past Bubbles. "I'm sick of this."

"Buttercup! Wait!"

Her sister followed her, their footsteps loud as they ran. People must have been watching, but she didn't care. They could all drink the Kool-Aid together. She was out of here.

Buttercup spared at glare for the Rowdyruff Boys as she passed them through the doors, her anger spiking at the blank face on Brick. For a moment, just a moment, her vision flickered with green, but it was gone because she was not going to subject herself to _him. _Her speed picked up one she was past them.

She barely got halfway down the hall before Bubbles had grabbed her. Her sister tugged her back and, damn it, she didn't want to stop, but when Bubbles got focused, she was immovable. That God damn hardcore mode of hers. She stumbled to a stop, but didn't turn to look at her shaking sister.

"Let me go," she hissed, but her sister's grip just tightened.

"Buttercup, _please_! Don't go! We need you!" Bubbles begged. "I know it's hard and-and it's weird listening to— But! But just until Blossom comes back! Just until—! Just until—!"

Buttercup stiffened. Her breathing picked up and the green encased her vision. Ringing filled her ears, drowning out Bubbles' babbling. She glared down the hall without seeing it, seeing a pink streak disappearing farther and farther away. No matter how much she reached for it, she knew she would never be able to grab it. No matter how much she tried, how much she screamed, it kept going farther and farther and becoming fainter and fainter.

Her throat clenched up. Her chest hurt. The green flickered.

She ripped her arm from her sister's grasp with a snarl. She spun, eyes wide and wild. The sour feeling in her chest exploded, but she had no idea what it was. All she wanted to do was _rage_.

She didn't even register the look on Bubbles' face, or the three boys who had followed them. She just glared.

"BLOSSOM'S DEAD, BUBBLES! AND SHE'S NEVER FUCKING COMING BACK!" she screamed with anger and rage and sorrow.

Bubbles stared at her, eyes wide and face white. Her mouth hung agape, no sound coming out of her. She began to tremble.

Not even the Boys had something to say to that.

The green swirled around the edges of Buttercup's vision. She panted, chest tight, everything feeling heavy and heated. Her teeth hurt from gritting them and, just as Bubbles' mouth snapped shut, she turned.

She was done.

She was sick of this.

She just wanted her big sister.

She sped away just as the first sob echoed down the hallway.


	4. Chapter 4

Part 1 of a double update for BTS this weekend!

This short is a little different than the others. If you've ever read Ray Bradbury's "There Will Come Soft Rains", this is mildly inspired by it. I actually quite like how this came out.

Please enjoy!

* * *

**Before the Storm 04**

* * *

The house stood empty, its inhabitants gone, fled after the chaos of that summer day. No more did laughter echo through its halls, no more did tears flow or arguments ring or conversation fill the air. No dinner cooking in the kitchen, no clothes in the laundry room, no television in the living room. No homework, no parties, no friends, no science. No more greetings and goodbyes. There hadn't been a goodbye, save a tiny whisper that they would be back, that they would bring _Her_ back.

The house stood empty, chairs and tables untouched. The desk and couches sat untouched, papers in disarray. Beds remained untouched in the bedrooms, where heads no longer lay. A layer of dust began to coat fabric, wood, and tile, a soft reminder of that day.

In the bedrooms, the dressers had been ransacked, clothes hastily thrown into bags, all save one. One lonely dresser, with its collection of hairpins and brushes left on top. One lonely side of the closet, where dresses hung in varying shades of pink, purple, and red. One lonely vanity, but well that had been shared. Yet it still sat untouched because what use did they have for makeup and jewelry when evil descended from above?

Oh, but no, that vanity hadn't been untouched, had it? A special drawer had been opened thrice, a drawer with a pretty collection of ribbons. Four were missing, but one had been with _Her_ and that had been the most special one, the one born with _Her_.

It had been lost with _Her_.

Reds, purples, blues, and greens had colored the drawer, different patterns and designs for every occasion imaginable. The purples, blues, and greens remained with their rare yellow cousins and all the patterned ones too.

The Toughest Fighter had been the first to open the drawer, to take the first red, the simplest red, and slam it shut.

The Joy and the Laughter had been second, taking the red with the frilled ends, the one that she had personally gotten for _Her_.

The vanity did not know the third. Their father had ushered them out, had cast a sad eye, but had not dared to take something of _Hers_. He had taken the photos, the books, the albums, and had left all else behind.

No, the third was not known to the vanity, to the room, to the house. He had hesitated on the threshold, had cast his eyes about, before floating over to the vanity. A surprise that he could float like its Girls.

Hesitant fingers over the drawer, hesitant fingers over the ribbons, finally taking the last solid red. The oldest red that was not the Special One. His fingers rubbed the material, old and faded, before voices called for him.

The vanity recognized the name because _She_ had been cross about him. But a vanity cannot express emotion, anger or disgust for being touched by one who so angered its mistress. A vanity could not tell one he did not deserve to take such a thing, such a special important thing.

The drawer slammed.

The third was gone.

The house stood empty, its inhabitants gone, fled after the chaos of that summer day. Dust collected on tables and chairs, on floors and rugs, on beds and couches and tiles. Dressers stood ransacked and empty, save one with its collection of hairpins and brushes. The vanity sat and waited with its special drawer missing four.

It sat and waited for _Her_, for its mistress to come home. Because_ She _always came home, no matter what. No matter the wait.

The house stood empty and waited. Waited for their return because the house knew they would. They always would.

Because the Powerpuff Girls always saved the day.


	5. Chapter 5

Part 2 of the BTS double update for this weekend!

This short takes place three months after Short 3, so Boomer and Brick are 14 in this. I've also been calling this short the Feral Brick Short and, well, you'll see.

Please enjoy!

* * *

**Before the Storm 0****5**

* * *

Boomer didn't think he would ever get over seeing Townsville and its surrounding counties like this. Barren and empty, silent like a tomb. Sure, there were animals because of course there were animals. The aliens didn't need to worry about _animals_, so deer and raccoons and all the other woodland creatures had begun moving into the empty neighborhoods.

Rows and rows of empty, abandoned houses from people running. _Or people obeying_.

He might not be the sharpest tool, but even he knew that not all the humans had sided with humanity. Plenty had sided with the aliens, bids for mercy and trying to save face. Princess Morbucks' own father was one, one she still hissed about. He was always surprised that she hadn't followed him, but she glared viciously the one time he brought it up and muttered that even she wasn't that stupid.

The humans that joined the aliens proved that there were gutless humans. They had no qualms cutting down their fellows, only because they wanted to save their own skins. He had known that, though. Living on the streets, living a life of crime, you met so many shitty people. Merciless, cowardly people, but he didn't really know who had or hadn't joined the Resistance.

_"Blossom's _dead_, Bubbles! And she's never fucking coming back!"_

His mouth thinned at the memory of the last time he had seen Buttercup. The last argument he had heard that had left Bubbles shell shocked and white. That had been three months ago.

Bubbles had changed drastically in that time, becoming quieter and quieter. She no longer smiled, not that she had smiled very often before, but now her face was like a mask. Blank, stoic, too much like how Brick's had become.

Boomer cast a glance at his brother, who stood listening to their lieutenant attentively. Bubbles had been spending more and more time with Brick since Buttercup had left. It made his stomach twist for some reason. Boomer didn't really know _why_, but he didn't like seeing the two of them leaning over books together or walking places together. Sure, Bubbles did spend time with him too, but she didn't cling to him as much as she did with Brick.

His chest and stomach felt funny whenever he thought about that. He didn't know what that meant, but he didn't like it. He especially didn't like that it make him dislike his own brother.

"Boomer."

He jumped at the voice, returning his gaze to Brick. His brother was looking at him curiously, but a person who didn't know him wouldn't realize. Boomer was still amazed that he even could tell his brother's moods anymore. Living with someone so long, however, probably helped with that.

Their unit had begun to move. He floated over to Brick and they fell into line.

The weapons and armor around them clinked and clanked as they walked, the only sound save the twittering of birds. One of the first things the Resistance had done, when it became apparent that the aliens had actually taken down the US Government (during a simultaneous assault on all other world governments), was raid any and all military bases they could. Having military personal helped, so they had managed to stockpile a decent amount of weapons. Any nuclear missiles, or just missiles in general, had to be given up. There just wasn't really any way to keep them. Sure, he and his brothers could have grabbed them, but the Resistance had nowhere to put them, so they were left.

The aliens had followed shortly after them, destroying communications and a whole bunch of other stuff. Boomer only knew a little bit of that because both Mojo and the Professor had ranted about it. At least they had some weapons...weapons that weren't he and his brothers or Bubbles. (Or the energy guns and robots of Mojo or whatever the Professor had hidden in his old lab.)

Out of their unit, Brick and Boomer were the only ones without weapons. Not a gun or a bat or whatever they could get their hands on. They only had a pocketknife for emergencies that needed more delicacy than their strength or heat vision could allow. Besides, they were basically walking weapons anyway so they didn't need them and left them for the people who did.

They had been taught how to use them all the same. Something about learning about their comrades or limitations or something. He hadn't really been paying attention when they explained why they were learning it. Whatever the reason, he knew and the weapons clinked and—

Before he knew what was happening, a flash of blue slammed into him.

Boomer had a moment to gasp and try to ground himself. His ankles dug into the dirt, leaving two deep grooves as _whatever_ pushed him backwards.

"Boomer!" multiple voices shouted.

When he finally came to a stop with his knees buried in the ground, he looked up. Had they been ambushed? Was it a—?

He froze and stared.

His brain twisted.

What was...?

"Bubbles?" he asked and then immediately knew he was wrong.

The curve of this girl's smile was wrong. It was twisted and arrogant, more like something he used to wear. Her blonde hair was much longer than Bubbles' was, tied into two pigtails that spiraled. She also wasn't wearing the military uniform the Resistance had taken on wearing; they had been given special, colored jackets to indicate whom they were. Instead, she had a blue tank top, a black skirt over white stockings, and rather pointy looking ankle boots. Golden bangles clinked as the girl crossed her arms.

Her eyes glowed down at him, too dark to be Bubbles, too light for his cobalt.

"Take a picture. It'll last longer," she snapped, but her malicious grin didn't lessen.

"Who are you?" he demanded, too afraid to look away from her to see if she had come with reinforcements. She had already blindsided him once. "Are you with the aliens?"

She laughed a laugh that was nothing like what Bubbles' used to be. It was cruel, loud, and jarring.

"Not as dumb as you look!" she sneered, but she didn't get to continue.

Red blasted her side and she screamed, disappearing into the distance. Boomer immediately struggled to free himself as Brick floated down next to him. He shook the dirt and stone off his legs once free.

"What is going on?" Boomer asked him, but Brick wasn't looking at him.

"Trouble," was all he said before a rough voice spoke over him.

"Hey! I know Brat's a brat, but no one gets to throw my sister around!"

The girl could be Buttercup if Buttercup had Butch's spikey hair. She wore a tight green shirt, something like a corset he guessed, and _really_ short shorts almost covered by the thick belt she wore. Fishnet stockings covered her legs, delving down into the heavy and spikey looking combat boots she wore.

"Shut up, Brute!" The blonde, _Brat_ he supposed, shot up to her side.

They scowled at each other and began to argue, even as the two brothers stared at them.

Boomer watched in horror. This couldn't be happening. An evil Bubbles and an evil Buttercup... The aliens hadn't...they couldn't... As long as there wasn't—

"Brute, Brat, _shut up_."

His breath caught. His stomach plummeted and, horrifyingly, his hands shook. The world seemed to narrow. He could _feel_ Brick stiffen next to him.

Somewhere behind him, the soldiers gasped.

Her hair was long, so, so long and a fiery red, more like Brick's hair color. A tattered, thin ribbon held it back into a high ponytail, which she flicked over her shoulder. She wore something that looked like a torn up school girl uniform: a light pink sleeveless button up and a red plain skirt that was way too short. She had over the knee stockings in shiny black shoes.

Magenta eyes stared down at them from over a condescending smirk. Her arms crossed and she cocked her hip to the side in a stance he had seen all the Girls do.

She looked everything like Blossom and nothing like her at the same time.

Heat began billowing from Boomer's right.

A low, low voice growled, "How _dare _you."

That chilled him to the bone.

It had been a long, long time since Boomer had seen Brick so angry. He actually didn't think he had seen him so angry, so angry that he was trembling, that smoke was billowing from his mouth, and that his fists were glowing a brilliant crimson. That his _eyes_ were completely red.

No pupil, no sclera, _red_.

Boomer didn't know if he should fear his brother or the knock offs in front of them more. He didn't know if he should actually fear _for_ them.

"Whattsa matter, Red? Upset that we look like those Powderpuffs?" Brat spoke up with her hands on her hips. She didn't seem to notice the danger, even after being struck by Brick minutes ago. "I didn't think there were _boy _Powderpuffs!"

Obviously, they knew who the Powerpuff Girls were, but not the Rowdyruff Boys? Then again, he didn't exactly expect the aliens to know about them either, outside of the nuisance they had made of themselves. And the Powerpuff Girls had been steadily amassing a national and limited international presence before the invasion, so—

So—

Oh lord, Brick was _growling._

_Not good._

"You don't _get_ to look like that," he snarled, ignoring Brat completely. "You don't get to look like _her_."

Sweat trickled down Boomer's neck. He glanced fervently between his brother and the girls. Not good, _not good at all_.

The three rip-offs looked at each in confusion. The green one, Brute he thought, lifted an eyebrow.

"Uh, wh—?"

Brick didn't give her a chance to speak.

With a _boom_, he shot off the ground, leaving a crater in his wake and slamming into the not-Blossom. She shrieked, but the streaks of red and magenta disappeared into the distance.

Boomer just managed to hold his ground, stumbling a little as he stared after them with wide eyes.

"Berserk!" the remaining two cried, turning.

He couldn't let them team up on Brick. Brick wasn't in his right mind right now.

Quick as a jet, Boomer shot into the air and slammed his bat into Brute's side. She grunted and collided with Brat, the two of them tumbling down.

He spared a glance towards where Brick had gone, but prepared himself for a fight like he hadn't had in a while.

* * *

Rage. All he felt was rage.

All consuming, overwhelming, violent _rage_

Fire leaked from his grimacing lips, heat billowed from his everything, and his fists slammed over and over again into a face too familiar, but too _wrong. _

A blur of pink_, of magenta_, slammed into his head, throwing him off and spinning them. They hit the ground with enough force to dent it. A trail of debris followed them, pieces of stone and broken cement digging into his back as the _rip-off_ held him down. He snarled and unleashed a blast of heat vision into her chest.

Another shriek, this one half-enraged, and heat vision blasted back at him. Brick rolled, rolled onto his feet, and snarled.

The rip-off spat blood at his feet.

"What the fuck is your problem!?" she snarled and it was all wrong, wrong, _wrong_.

_She_ wouldn't curse like that.

_She_ wouldn't dress like this, look like this, look as wild and crazy as _he_ used to.

_How dare she._

"You don't get to look like that," he growled instead and swung forward.

His fist collided with an abrupt wall of earth. His snarl sounded feral to his own ears and all common sense left as his fist collided again and again, breaking it into pieces. This wouldn't stop him, couldn't stop him. As if mere _stone _could stop him.

He didn't get farther than halfway through before a burst of magenta energy slammed into his chest. He skidded backwards, curling around his stomach and gasping. With another growl, he looked up and caught her fist.

She snarled at him and swung her leg in a clumsy kick. He caught that too, this time with his forearm.

_She_ would have easily been able to hit him with a kick like that. This was ridiculous. This was _blasphemous_.

He scowled, fist tightening around hers, their energies crackling as they clashed. Jerking his arm back, he tossed her like a ragdoll and growled as she caught herself in the air. His fingers twitched and he blasted her with energy.

Surprisingly, she dodged and retaliated with her own blast. He had the frame of mind to jump away from it. They exchanged more blasts, red and magenta flashing around them. Stubbornly, she kept a distance from him, never letting him get too close and blasting him with heat or rocks when he did. He sneered at that and took a deep breath.

The flames that he roared out were hotter than he had ever breathed. They hurt his throat, his mouth, and his tongue and glowed such a bright orange they were almost white. The stones she attempted to throw began to melt in his heat. He heard her shriek as the stone fell as lava and he coughed. The flames petered out, smoke taking over as it billowed from his mouth, but the rage in his chest still burned. Lifting his head, he bared his teeth at the glowering girl floating above him.

Her hair smoked. Her skin smoked. So did her clothes, actually. Ash coated just about all over her, flaking as she moved. She trembled and bared her own teeth, sharp teeth like an anglerfish, not like the canine sharpness of him and his brothers. Magenta energy crackled up and down her arms.

She growled something at him, growled at him in that gurgling, hissing language of the aliens. The heels of her palms slammed together and a doubled blast of energy flew towards him. A shred of panic shot through his rage, but before he could even brace himself, something slammed into his side.

He and whatever rolled, hitting the ground hard as the rip-off howled. Blue lightning lit up the sky.

"Brick, _Big Bro_, we have to get out of here!"

Brick stared uncomprehendingly at Boomer, eyes darting between his younger brother and the Not Her. The other two rip-offs had joined her, talking to her fast, and the heat in his everything flared.

_He hadn't finished yet_.

Boomer clung to his arm, though, electricity dancing across his fingers. His hair had fluffed from his static and his eyes glowed.

Did Brick look as wild?

"Brick," Boomer begged, "_please_."

Brick's eyes jumped to the movement behind his brother. He bristled.

"Boomer," he hissed, "_duck."_

His brother dropped and the flames burned his throat, burned _his palms_ as he held out his hands. He didn't know what instinct told him to do so, what part of him, but he held out his hands and the flames obeyed and formed a wall. A tall wall that shot into the air, crackling and popping. Three shrieks echoed.

He tasted blood. His throat ached, ached something awful, but the tingling of Chemical X told him that the flesh was fixing itself. He coughed and smoke and ash came out. He grimaced.

He let Boomer grab his arm, let Boomer pull him away, but Brick glared over his shoulder. The flames continued to burn, burn high, but he caught glowing magenta through them. He caught a snarl through them.

_How dare they._

_How dare they try to replace _her.

She was _not_ Pinky.

She was _not_ his counterpart.

_How dare they._

_He was going to kill them all._


	6. Chapter 6

Happy Saturday! I hope everyone is doing okay and staying safe! To all the essential workers out there, thank you so much and we appreciate you!

This short is for all those wondering what Blossom experienced in her time with the aliens. So here is a peek. Sorry in advance.

Warning: Original Character Death and Graphic Depictions of Violence near the end of the chapter

* * *

**Before the Storm 06**

* * *

Elizabeth Bean had been a schoolteacher. She had taught third grade and had loved it. Becoming a teacher had been her dream since she was young, after all. She loved teaching and fostering curiosity and a love of learning in young minds. Third graders were just so fun, that age where they were starting to really explore who they wanted to be in life.

Elizabeth Bean had been a mother. She had a daughter, somewhere out there, and hopefully she was safe. Hopefully she was with her husband. Hopefully they were together. She hoped her family was safe, was with the Resistance, or had gotten away from Townsville.

Away from the aliens in its center.

Elizabeth Bean had been a free woman once. Now she was a slave.

Her fingers remained steady as she ran the comb through the silky hair before her.

Her Julie had had curly ginger hair. It ran in their family and they took pride in that Scottish heritage. They would spend hours playing with their hair and taming the wild locks with ribbons and clips. The color alone stood out in the crowd, which was probably why Julie had befriended Blossom all those years ago.

The only two girls in their class with that standout ginger hair. Julie had been so happy, proudly deciding that they would be friends even with Blossom's superpowers.

"Us gingers have to stick together!" Julie had said one day long ago.

Blossom had giggled. "Yeah!"

That felt like a lifetime ago.

Blossom had had straight hair compared to her Julie. Long hair that cascaded down her back, the kind of hair that most woman would be jealous of. A faint wave sat at the ends, but it was too long now to see that.

Elizabeth Bean had become a beautician. A beautician and a slave.

Her fingers carefully worked the long locks, carefully combing it and working out the knots. She had to look perfect because _he_ wanted her to look perfect.

Elizabeth Bean had been separated from her family that fateful day. She had been taken days later, struggling and shrieking, before the vile things had set her before _him_.

"You know how to take care of children, yes?" he had asked. Fear held her tongue and he had snarled, grabbing her face. "Answer me, human!"

"Y-Yes?" she had stuttered.

Her body had shook, only the two aliens at her sides holding her up when Aterex had leaned back. A smile had split the blackness of his face, a sharp smile from a nightmare.

"Perfect."

They had led her to a dazed Blossom, a confused, docile Blossom, and Elizabeth's heart had broken. This girl was her daughter's best friend, was the light of their city, and how _dare _they capture her like some kind of animal.

Elizabeth began plotting that very day.

She had not been alone in her plotting either.

Blossom had one other caretaker. Elizabeth dealt with Blossom as a human girl, taking care of her health and hygiene, all the things a growing girl needed. Even if Blossom had barely responded, too drugged up to respond with more than flickering thoughts she projected to her. There hadn't been a night that Elizabeth hadn't cried for the girl she took care of, the girl whom she cared for and loved in the absence of her own daughter.

Serwo dealt with Blossom as a _pet_. He dealt with her schedule, with her lessons on the Narcassian culture, and with her training. When Aterex needed to parade her around like a dog on a leash, Serwo was the one who presented the clothes and ornaments for Elizabeth to dress Blossom in. His head forever bowed, milky scars crossing his shoulders and neck, and heavy shackles and collar telling what he was.

A Narcassian slave. One of the few that Elizabeth had seen because Aterex did not want them seen.

Elizabeth sat back from her combing, looking over the long tresses. The Narcassians had a fascination with hair and fur. The longer, the better. There were a number of human _pets_ around the citadel with carefully coifed and cared for hair, both men and women. No doubt the other bases around the world had similar slaves, humans chosen for their hair and beauty alone. Humans that got to live in luxury with an imitated freedom so long as they didn't leave their gilded cages.

Blossom had become both pet and warrior.

Elizabeth hated Aterex for what he had done.

"Serwo," she called and the alien came to her side. He carefully gathered Blossom's hair into his hands, forming a high ponytail. Elizabeth clipped the crown-shaped hairclip around the tresses. "Thank you."

"Of course," he murmured and stepped backwards.

Elizabeth smoothed Blossom's hair, fingers only shaking slightly. Another round of parading. She moved her chair so that she was facing the girl who had become a teenager in captivity. Glazed pink eyes met hers, the once proud spark gone, hidden by the drugs the aliens forced upon her. A flash of a muted thought shot through her mind, a faded combination of anger and fear.

The older woman closed her eyes and willed the tears away. She sent back her apologies, her shame and anger. Silently, she picked up the makeup brush and began to decorate Blossom's face. Her stomach rolled bitterly.

They just needed a little bit more time, just a bit more, and then they could get Blossom out of here. Serwo and she had only a few more things to finalize and then she wouldn't have to suffer through this guilt and fear.

The door slammed open.

"Let me _fight_ her!"

Elizabeth barely batted an eye and began applying the lipstick carefully. A soft shade, nothing too garish, more nude than anything else. Aterex did not like overly painted faces. Therefore, his prized _pet_ would never wear shade darker than her eyes.

"Blossom is needed for an assembly," Serwo told Berserk quietly.

"I don't _care_!" she roared. "That—! That _red bastard_ was there again! He ruined _everything_!"

Placing the makeup down, Elizabeth looked around Blossom to see the Powerpunk.

Bruises and burns littered her skin. The ends of her hair actually smoked still, ashes falling every time she moved. Wild, glowing eyes met hers and Berserk snarled.

This wasn't the first time Berserk had raged about a "red bastard". The first time she and her sisters had been deployed, she had come back complaining about a red "Powderpuff Boy" beating the living daylights out of her. Brute and Brat also complained about him sometimes, including a blue and green boy in their rants.

Elizabeth had known immediately whom they had been talking about. She remembered the day the first showed up and the day they had died. She remembered when they returned and remembered the frustrated tears of Julie complaining about Blossom having to go deal with those "dumb boys"!

At least the Rowdyruff Boys were on the side of humanity.

She returned to her appraisal of Blossom's appearance, pressing her mouth in a thin line. Long, long hair clipped back with a golden crown, a thick golden necklace that was really a collar, and golden bands on her upper and lower arms that may as well be shackles. Aterex had picked out a long white dress, sleeveless with an obscene V cut, for the assembly. It could have been a prom dress. It _should_ have been a prom dress, even if Elizabeth could never see Blossom picking out such a thing.

Blossom was _seventeen_. She _should_ be thinking about prom, going to prom, but instead the world had gone to hell.

Elizabeth had not let Blossom out of her sight ever since she became her caretaker. If Blossom was training, Elizabeth was there. If Blossom was bathing, Elizabeth was helping her. If Blossom had to appear before Aterex's kingdom, Elizabeth was there on the sidelines, watching the so-called king like a hawk. The only time that she wasn't with Blossom was when the girl went on missions.

Serwo had offered to go the first time Aterex brought up using Blossom to curb uprisings and inspire his troops. Aterex had clubbed the poor alien, breaking bones at such a ridiculous suggestion. His generals went with her instead to make sure that she performed the mission and that the Resistance didn't get their hands on her.

They always returned with her.

Elizabeth's fists tightened in her lap. Berserk was still raging, still upset over the red Rowdyruff, and she seemed hell-bent on fighting Blossom. Aterex would no doubt indulge her once the ceremony was over, another chance to laud Blossom's strengths over the Powerpunks.

Another chance to laud his own strength over hers.

"I'm sorry, Berserk," she said, interrupting the girl's ranting. "We must leave now."

Berserk hissed. "I'll come with you."

Elizabeth and Serwo shared a look before looking over the Powerpunk. Her hair smoked. Her clothes were torn and burned, obvious evidence from her fight. Though bruises and burns faded the longer they looked, her arms still looked like a mess, covered in ash and dirt.

Aterex would not be pleased.

"No," Serwo murmured. "The…king would be most displeased."

Her eyes lit up.

"Who do you think you are, _slave_? Telling me what to do!" she snarled. Her fists began to glow. "I'll pummel you!"

His head lowered, but he did not back down. "No, Berserk."

"You—!"

Her jaws snapped shut as Blossom stood. Elizabeth had her hand on the girl's shoulder, even though they were the same height. She frowned at Berserk, whose eyes remained only on Blossom and ignored her warning look. Not that the Powerpunk would ever heed the warning of _one beneath her_, but Elizabeth would try for Blossom's sake. Her fingers tightened on the teenager's shoulder.

Even with glazed eyes, Blossom embodied control and leadership as she had before. She turned to stare at Berserk, her blank face almost reading disdain. Her back stood straight, perfectly poised, as they made their way across the room.

Berserk took one step in front of them.

Before Elizabeth or Serwo could react, Blossom's arm shot out and slammed into Berserk's chest. The Powerpunk gasped, hitting the wall as she shoved her out of the way. A faint glow settled in her charge's eyes.

Elizabeth clutched her arm. Serwo was immediately at her other side.

"Blossom, _no_," she hissed. "We have to get to the assembly or _he'll_ come here!"

Blossom's hand curled into a fist.

"I know, warrior, _I know_, but please," Serwo murmured. He did not touch her. "Elizabeth, take her to the assembly."

Elizabeth nodded and ushered her out of the room before Berserk could attack. From the shrieks that echoed after them, Serwo was doing his best to prevent her from following. She quickened their steps, even if all she wanted to do was drag out the inevitable.

Elizabeth hated assemblies. She hated seeing Blossom next to Aterex, how small she looked compared to the alien king decked in his golden ornaments. Gauntlets, armbands, breastplate, and collar all shone under the lights, glittering with every movement he made. All he was missing was a crown, but, no, he reserved that honor to poor Blossom with her little clip. She stood next to him like a good little doll and the amassed mix of aliens and spineless humans cheered and applauded.

From the shadows, Elizabeth watched and her heart ached. She knew how Blossom trembled, could see the faint shaking in her hands, even if the rest of her stood perfectly still. And the amassed idiots didn't see that. The humans that had sold their souls to these cretins because of wealth and power. Elizabeth hadn't hidden her disdain seeing Morbucks for the first time, seeing him gaze down too keenly at Blossom for her tastes. She was a _child_ and all they saw was a _thing_.

Soon.

They would act _soon_.

It had taken three years, but she was _gone_. She was _free._

Elizabeth had never planned to leave with her. They had been slowly giving her less and less drugs, encouraging her to use her ice powers more and more. After Seattle, after she had returned to them catatonic and covered in blood, Elizabeth and Serwo had set their plan into action.

And she was free now.

"You _fool_!" Aterex raged, slamming Serwo into the wall of Blossom's gilded cage.

Elizabeth flinched in the corner, arms raised as she watched.

"She…" Serwo coughed, "is _free_. She is your _downfall_, wretched _usurper_."

Aterex snarled, those fangs glittering in the light, and he threw Serwo across the room. He hit the wall with a crunch and slid down. Blood splattered the floor as he coughed again.

The vile king stalked towards him.

"I should have left you to rot on Narcassia," he hissed and lifted Serwo by his face. "Your purpose has been _fulfilled_."

"Yes…it _has_…" Serwo murmured just as Aterex crushed his skull.

He dropped, limp and eyes clouding over. Blood dripped from his mouth, pooling around him.

Aterex turned.

Elizabeth shuddered and lifted her chin.

No, she had never planned to leave with Blossom. She hoped her family was okay. She hoped they were with the Resistance.

Oh, what she would give to see her Julie and Robert again, but, alas, that had never been in the cards, had it? She trembled as the alien king stalked towards her, a scowl ripped across his face. She knew what was going to happen.

"And _you_, human, what do you have to say for yourself?" he demanded, looming ever closer.

Her face screwed up and she spat at his feet.

His snarl echoed around them as he snatched her by the throat. Her fingers clawed at his hand lifting her off the ground. Air answered her fluttering feet as she struggled. She gasped_, choked_, but scowled all the same.

_Sorry, baby, honey. Mommy isn't coming home._

"The…The Powerpuff Girls…always save…the day," she rasped.

And then all went dark.


	7. Chapter 7

Happy Sunday! I hope everyone is doing all right atm! Sorry for disappearing for a month. I was doing mermay over on my Instagram, kiebsmon!

So here's the next short for Before the Storm, a direct sequel to Chapter 3, and a first look into Princess' mind!

Please enjoy!

* * *

When Princess saw Bubbles sobbing, clutching Brick like a lifeline, and no Buttercup anywhere, she vowed to never give the green puff a moment of peace. Bubbles had been one of the few people to hold out an olive branch to her, to let her join the ranks of the infant Resistance despite their less than stellar relationship, if you could call antagonism a _relationship_. Being a child supervillain and then just a...a brat hadn't left her with many friends who weren't bought.

Money didn't keep friends in an apocalypse. Especially friends whose fathers were in Daddy's pocket and had followed him when he went sniveling to those...those _things. _Because he had seen opportunity while the city burned, because all he saw was greed and dollar signs. When those dark ships had descended, Princess had known that something was wrong, that something bad was happening, but her father had just seen the screaming city and saw necessary casualties. They were thinning the peasants out. There would be more room for _them. _

Princess had wanted to throw up. _She_ had been the supervillain, but her father…her father was a true _monster_. Momma had been right to leave all those years ago, even if she had left Princess behind. Princess had been too stupid, though. Too blinded by Daddy and his money and his attention to care that her mother had been trying to save her. Now here they were with a city under siege and her father smoking a cigar as he had watched it all unfold on his seventy-inch flat-screen.

"This could be…an opportunity," he had commented, watching those things crawling over buildings, those things batting at the lights buzzing around them. "Alfred, see to it that we get an audience with these creatures."

Five days later, before her father could get his stupid audience, she was sneaking out of her family's estate. She was surprised that altering one of her old jetpacks to hold her hadn't taken long, but she had a mission. She needed to get to the people who she knew would stand up to those _things_.

Those things that had ravaged Townsville, their _home_, and who had overpowered both the Powerpuff Girls _and_ the Rowdyruff Boys. Yeah, they had been twelve then, but Princess knew firsthand just how strong the six of them could be. Maybe not _together_, but the Girls together were ridiculous and the Boys were a match for them, so all _six_ of them would be out of this world.

Those aliens had matched them.

…but it had only been five, hadn't it?

Learning that Blossom wasn't there…that Blossom was _missing_ had unsettled Princess. They were unspoken rivals after all! Blossom couldn't…couldn't go missing. She had ran away, away from her stupid father and his stupid, stupid greed, to the only group of humans who she thought could help on the sole belief that Blossom would be there and she would be formulating a plan.

She had found a twitching Buttercup and teary Bubbles, had found a somber Professor working with _Mojo Jojo_ of all people, and had found three boys she hadn't seen in years. She had found no trace of Blossom.

"Where is she?" she had snapped as she stood in the lobby of Midway Elementary.

Buttercup's face had darkened. Her twitching had gotten worse.

Bubbles' lip had trembled.

"We don't know." It had been Brick who had spoken, an angry scowl on his face as he crossed his arms. He had looked away from her and his scowl had darkened at the floor. "Stupid Pinky, what's taking her so long?"

Princess had clenched her fists. If Blossom wasn't here, what were they going to _do_? She had stared at the floor, her mind swirling and bile building in her throat. If they didn't have the _Powerpuff Girls_…

"P-Princess, do you…want to join the Resistance?"

She had looked up and Bubbles had given her a wet, nervous smile.

She had said yes without hesitation, shaking Bubbles' hand for the first time ever. There would be no more rivalry between her and them, not now, not when the world was folding in on itself.

And then Buttercup had gone and done _that_.

"What happened?" she demanded, after Brick and his brothers had brought Bubbles back to her room.

Brick glared at the ground, his arms tight across his chest. His jaw was tense.

Boomer's shoulders lifted to his ears. His eyes darted between his brother and the ground.

Butch stuffed his hands into his pockets. His mouth twisted as he scuffed the tiled floor with his shoe.

"…Buttercup said somethin' _nasty_ to Bubbles," he muttered.

Princess narrowed her eyes.

"What do you _mean_ by that, _Butch_?" she snapped and stomped her foot. "Answer me! What did Buttercup _do_!?"

"She said that Pinky is fucking _dead_, Morbucks," Brick growled. His eyes burned when he looked up at her. "She screamed that right in Bubbles' _face_."

Cold washed over her. She stared and stared at the glaring boy in front of her, at his tight face and glowing eyes. She clenched her fists. Her fingers trembled.

"She— She _what_?" she hissed. The cold gave way to a boiling anger. "That—! That—_Buttercup Utonium_!"

She spun on her heel, fully intending to find her damn jetpack and book it after the stupid green Powderpuff. She would give Buttercup a piece of her mind, let her have it about screaming something like that at Bubbles! No matter how true it might be! Buttercup was all Bubbles had left!

Her tongue tasted bitter at the idea of Blossom being dead but it had been years now. If she hadn't shown up by now, the likelihood that she would ever return was nonexistent. They would have to move on, fight without her, even if they were scrabbling.

They could fight in her honor. They _would_ fight in her honor.

First, however, Princess had a puff to yell at.

A hand grabbed her before she got too far.

"What!" she screeched as she turned and froze at the stony face that met her. "Brick, what the fu—?"

"Leave her," he commanded and it was a command because what else could you call that stern tone of voice? "Buttercup has made her choice."

She gaped at him.

Just beyond his shoulders, she could see both Boomer and Butch looking at the floor. Boomer had the sad eyes of a kicked puppy and Butch was trembling with a scowl. His knuckles shone white.

Neither spoke up against their brother. _Against their leader._

"You _cannot_ be serious!" Princess cried. "She made Bubbles cry!"

"She's grieving," Brick answered. Save for his furrowed eyebrows, he was expressionless. "Going after her will just make her lash out more. Leave it."

"But—!"

"_Princess_."

Princess snapped to attention at that cold, disappointed voice. Everything about it was wrong, the pitch, the face it came out of, but it was _familiar._ Scarily familiar in a face that had long stopped being condescending and smug.

In a face that now held a stoic control, a calm that remained unruffled in most situations.

For a moment, she saw pink instead of red.

Princess gritted her teeth and averted her eyes. Blossom was gone. They weren't getting her back.

Brick could act like her all he wanted, but he wasn't her.

Maybe that was why Buttercup had shouted that she wouldn't listen to anyone but Blossom. Maybe she had noticed it too.

"Fine," she grumbled and again turned on her heel. "But I'm letting her have it the next time I see her."

A sigh answered her and she felt herself tense. "If you must."

It was wrong and familiar and she hated it, but Princess would have to put up with it. She had to because she wasn't going to let her greedy father and those damn aliens win. She had formed a truce with Bubbles, after all, and weird similarities weren't going to ruin it. Buttercup fucking Utonium wasn't going to ruin it. She had sworn to turn over a new leaf for the sake of humankind and screw whatever got in her way.

A similar tone, a similar phrase, didn't mean anything. It was just a coincidence. A…counterpart thing, as she once heard Bubbles phrase it long ago.

Princess had more important things to do, like training and forming plans to annoy Buttercup, than to mull over coincidences.


End file.
